John Vance Cheney
John Vance Cheney Poems
|1.||Wherever A Green Blade Looks Up||4/21/2010|
|2.||And Ghosts Break Up Their Graves||4/21/2010|
|3.||At A Grave||4/21/2010|
|6.||Days That Come And Go||4/21/2010|
|8.||Every One To His Own Way||4/21/2010|
|9.||Great Is To-Day||4/21/2010|
|13.||The Man With The Hoe - A Reply||4/21/2010|
|14.||The Parting Of Ilmar And Haadin||4/21/2010|
|16.||The Skilful Listener||4/21/2010|
|19.||The Happiest Heart||1/4/2003|
Comments about John Vance Cheney
The weasel thieves in silver suit,
The rabbit runs in gray;
And Pan takes up his frosty flute
To pipe the cold away.
The flocks are folded, boughs are bare,
The salmon take the sea;
And O my fair, would I somewhere
Might house my heart with thee!
The Happiest Heart
Who drives the horses of the sun
Shall lord it but a day;
Better the lowly deed were done,
And kept the humble way.
The rust will find the sword of fame,
The dust will hide the crown;
Ay, none shall nail so high his name
Time will not tear it down.